The Phantom of Hetalia
by homemade-popcorn
Summary: When the star of the Opera Populaire storms out, young Lovino must take his place. The new opera managers are glad of the switch, as is the new patron. But little do they know a masked figure is watching them all...  Human names used, T for mild language.
1. Chapter 1

**The Phantom of Hetalia**

**A Hetalia Twist on Phantom of the Opera**

**(Based on the 2004 movie version)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers: Hetalia or Phantom of the Opera.**

**Human names used**

**Summary: The story of The Phantom of The Opera with Hetalia characters.**

**Warnings: British swearing, foul language.**

**Cast of Characters**

**Romano/Lovino Vargas: Christine Daae**

**Turkey/Sadiq Adnan: Phantom**

**Spain/Antonio Fernandez Carriedo: Raoul (Viscount de Chagny)**

**France/Francis Bonnefoy: Monsieur Gilles Andre**

**England/Arthur Kirkland: Monsieur Richard Firmin**

**Germany/Ludwig Beilshmidt: Madame Giry**

**North Italy/Feliciano Vargas: Meg Giry**

**Lithuania/Toris Lorinaitis: Ubaldo Piangi**

**Poland/Feliks Lukasiewicz: Carlotta Giudicelli**

**Prussia/Gilbert Bielshmidt: Joseph Buquet**

**Russia/Ivan Braginski: The Auctioneer**

**Switzerland/Vash Zwingli: Monsieur Lefevre**

**Austria/Roderich Edelstein: Monsieur Reyer (Maestro)**

Prologue

Paris 1919

"...Lot 666, the chandelier, one of the relics from the unsolved mystery of the Phantom of the Opera. Some of you may remember it, da? Nasty business. It has been rewired with new electric bulbs, and..."

The old Spaniard tuned out the tall blond man's slightly accented chatter. He stared at the dusty chandelier, its golden arms and clinking chains bringing back memories he had hoped would stay buried forever. Then he noticed an old man looking at him from across the chandelier. He recognized the German. The German recognized him. Suddenly, he was jerked out of his reverie by a creaking noise and a clank of the chains as the old chandelier was lifted into the air. Its electric lights flickered and burst into light one by one, flooding the dusty theater where the auction was being held. The elderly Spaniard gasped. As the chandelier continued to rise, the Spaniard gripped the arms of his wheelchair and tilted his head back, following its progress to the ceiling of the old decrepit theater. The lights flooded the opera house, illuminating the painted ceiling, now peeling, and the velvet seats, now torn and caked with dust. It was all there. Perhaps a ruined, old version of its former self, but it was all there. The stage, the intricately carved golden pillars, the curtains... All of it just as he remembered.

Chapter One

Paris, The Opera Populaire, 1870

Feliks Lukasiewicz, the Opera Populaire's male star, stood to the right of the stage, applying voluminous amounts of blue eyeshadow to his already coated eyelids. "Er, Monsieur Feliks, don't you think that's enough?" twitted Toris Lorinaitus, another male performer.

"Nonsense! I need to be, like, dramatic!" exclaimed Feliks. "The new managers are coming today, and I need to, like, impress them with my talents!"

"Places!" came a voice from onstage, "Rehearsal is beginning!" Feliks and Toris glided onstage in their blue and gold costume. As Feliks stepped forward, he stumbled over a foot belonging to Lovino Vargas, a member of the ballet ensemble.

"Watch where you step, you bastard!" muttered the boy. Luckily, Feliks was intent upon the music which was beginning to play.

"Think of meeeeeee, think of me fondly, when we've said goooooooodbye..." Warbled Feliks. The two new managers of the opera house saw two of the servants and a few members of the ensemble put their fingers in their ears.

" Francis," whispered one of managers, "Francis, this is bloody awful!"

"Onhonhonhon~" CRASH! A painted backdrop fell and crashed on top of Feliks, cutting off his 'singing'. Various members of ensemble and cast screamed. Toris ran to Feliks' side and pulled him out from under the backdrop. He was screaming like mad and having a tantrum.

"Toris!Toris we are leaving! Now!" shrieked Feliks.

"Now now, Monsieur, these things do happen..." reassured the new manager called Francis.

"These things do happen? No! Until you stop 'these things' from happening, this thing, like, does not happen! Come on, Toris!" yelled Feliks in a high-pitched voice. Then he stormed out, dragging Toris by the hand.

"What are we going to do? Our show is ruined! We were going to have Feliks sing at the beginning to impress the Viscount Antonio! Now what will we do? Bloody hell!" cried the other new manager, whose name was Arthur.

"Well, is their anyone else who could possibly sing Feliks' part?" wondered the maestro. "Anyone? Don't be afraid."

"Roderich, I don't think there is anyone who can-"

"I'll do it."

"What?"

"I said, I'll do it, you French bastard."

"Lovino? You... You could sing it?"

"Shut up, you jerks, and let me try." Lovino stepped to the front of the stage and nodded to Roderich, who began conducting what was originally Feliks' song. "Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye, remember me, once in a while, please promise me you'll try. When you find that once again you long to take your heart back and be free, if you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me." Lovino's clear voice rang throughout the opera house and everyone gasped.

"Francis," murmured Arthur, "We have definitely found a replacement."

"Oui, we have."

So? How was my first chapter?It was harder than I thought! Please review and no flaming! No one gains from flames. I think its a good plot, but actually I've never really seen the movie, just the musical and clips of the movie. Don't judge me! I still love it! So depending on demand, I will continue with the story or not. If no one wants it, I wont bother posting it. So please R&R! And yeah, I know, I changed the story a bit. The Girys and other characters will be introduced in later chapters. Don't kill me.

-Popcorn


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

A/N: Thanks to all who read and reviewed! I'm always glad to hear feedback and comments. I tried to improve on some things that were mentioned in reviews so I hope you like it! And after I finished chapter 1, I went to go see Phantom at the Majestic Theater in NYC (with Sara Jean Ford and Hugh Panaro) which was amazing! Here is chapter two (Finally!)

I don't own stuff because I can't come up with such amazing things as POTO and Hetalia, so they belong to their respective owners.

Warnings: Somewhat mild language

Monsieur Francis Bonnefoy and Monsieur Arthur Kirkland gazed raptly at the stage from their special box seat reserved for the two new managers. The young singers' voice resounded throughout the opera house, clear and perfect as the tears that fell from a few members of the audiences' eyes. "Who would have thought that such a crude youth could harbor such exquisite talent?" murmured Monsieur Bonnefoy to the other. On the other side of the stage, the Spaniard in the other box seat was just as stunned and awed by the singers' voice as the audience was. He thought, he almost did not dare, but he thought that he recognized it.

"Can it be? Can it be Lovino?" wondered the older man to himself, remembering how he had taken care of him while Lovino was a young child. "Long ago, it seemed so long ago, how young and innocent he was! He may not remember me, but I remember him." The Spaniard was now certain that it was Lovino. How beautiful he had grown up to be! And how truly moving his voice was, ringing from the stage so perfectly, singing the lyrics which the Spaniard connected with, body and soul.

"Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade, they have their seasons, so do we, but please promise me that sometimes, you will think..." Lovino paused and waited for the audience to hold their breath in suspense. Then he began a scale with his voice, sliding it up and down, exercising the near whole of his wide range, before dipping down to a low note for a moment, pausing again, and then shooting up to hit the high note perfectly. "...Of me!" As he finished, the audience, including the men in the box seats, burst into a standing ovation. Lovino smiled and waved at their applause, proud of himself and relishing the moment. He might be to embarrassed to let it slip to anyone, but he loved singing.

After everyone had changed out of their costumes and makeup, various cast members met Lovino backstage to congratulate him on his spectacular performance. Unfortunately, they were all shooed away by the Opera Populaires' imposing dance instructor, Monsieur Ludwig Beilshmidt, who insisted that Lovino get rest. Feliciano Vargas, Lovino's idiot brother, was particularly obsessed with Monsieur Beilshmidt, and whispered a hurried, "Meet you later," as he followed the dance instructor away. After the cast members came the new managers.

"Congratulations! Magnificent, splendid performance! Stupendous!" cried Monsieur Bonnefoy, pumping a stunned Lovinos' hand up and down.

"Yes, excellent!" exclaimed Monsieur Kirkland. "Simply excellent, though nothing simple about it! Even Monsieur Zwingli, the old manager came to hear you! He retired, he told me, because he was afraid he was not spending enough time looking after his little sister," confided Arthur, "whom he brought here tonight to see the show. Charming little thing, just adorable. Looks bloody like him if not for her hair bow! Anyway, Zwingli said he would come back to hear you sing again! Isn't that wonderful?"

"Now, now, Arthur, we mustn't exhaust poor Lovino," chuckled Monsieur Bonnefoy. "He needs his rest! He has a big voice to keep in shape, non? Let him retire for the night, onhonhonhon~"

The two men left Lovino backstage by himself. The young man sighed. It _had_ been a pretty exhausting performace. Maybe he would just go to his room now to slee-

"Lovino? Is that you?"

"Wha-" Lovino spun around, tried and irritable. "Who's there?"

"It is you! Lovino! Its been so long!" Lovino was suddenly smothered by the hug that enveloped him from nowhere.

"What the hell? Get off me you bastard!"

"Lovino! It definitely is you!" The whoever-it-was released him. "Do you remember me? Antonio! I used to take care of you when you were little! We had so much fun!"

"Antonio? Its been ages since I've seen you! What are you doing here?" yelled Lovino, a little embarrassed.

"I am the Opera Populaires' new patron! I came tonight to watch the show, but didn't expect _you_ to be singing! Now, we must catch up on old times! Do you still love tomatoes? I know a wonderful restaurant that uses tomatoes in _everything_! I must take you. Now! I insist."

"Wait, Antonio! I'm tir-"

"I'll get a carriage, two minutes, little tomato!"

And he was gone. "Damn! I'm too tired to eat out with him tonight!" muttered Lovino. As much as he wanted to talk with him, and as much as it had made him happy to see Antonio again, Lovino really was tired. "Now what do I do?"

"Insolent man, this slave of Spaniards, basking in your glory..." A strange male voice was echoing around the deserted backstage area. "Ignorant fool, this brave new suitor, sharing in my triumph..."

The voice both chilled and enthralled Lovino. With a shaky voice he sang angrily back:

"Angel? You bastard! Who the hell are you? Creeping in this theater? Angel? You stalker! Turn and face me. Get the hell out, bastard!"

"Flattering child you shall see me, see why I shadows I hide, look at the large prop- the mirror, I am there, inside!" Although this strangers' choice of words slightly unnerved him, Lovino crept slowly to a large, glassy mirror: The prop for one of the previously performed musicals. He peered into the reflective surface and saw, to his alarm, not his own frightened face looking back at him, but another face. The face of a man wearing a mask that only covered half his face. "I am your angel of music, come to me angel of music," the hypnotic voice purred softly. "I am your angel of music, come to me angel of music..." As the mysterious figure sang, the glass of the mirror slowly slid away, so that there was nothing but the mirror frame between the masked man and Lovino. With a fluttering heart and all his senses screaming for him not to, Lovino, half-asleep from the entrancing voice, took the masked mans' hand in his and stepped over the mirror frame.

Done! So yes, I changed lyrics a little. Ok, a lot. I thought they fit his personality more. Wouldn't you start freaking out if some voice started singing to you? I think Romano would. Don't worry, it will all turn out all love-triangle at the end. Probably. The personalities are really giving this story a mind of its' own!

Please R&R! And let me know if I made any mistakes. I edited as best I could.

I won't continue unless someone tells me I should!

~Popcorn


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